


Winter of the Guardians

by MercuryHomophony



Category: Adventure Time, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:38:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryHomophony/pseuds/MercuryHomophony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack pays a little visit to one of the last children of the world…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter of the Guardians

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Последняя зима Хранителей](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5080627) by [Kollega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kollega/pseuds/Kollega)



Jack crept closer to the fire. He could feel the presence of a child, young and innocent, someone who still believed. Whoever it was, they were sitting near that fire, and he was going to do his best to protect them.

The glow grew stronger as he emerged from the trees, and it only took him a minute to spot the actual flames in the distance. The pitiful camp sat at the edge of the ruined town, constructed from some wooden planks and torn blankets. The remains of a train station protected the camp inhabitants from the wind, although it still caused the fire to flicker wildly. Jack softly whispered to the wind, asking it to lessen its strength.

A figure sat huddled next to the fire, as close as it could get without catching fire. As the wind lightened up, it looked up and glanced around. Jack could see the firelight reflect off its glasses, and for a moment, he thought it was looking at him… but after a moment, the figure turned its gaze back to whatever it was looking at.

He snuck closer. The child was in the tent, he could tell now. The other figure was an older man, with long white hair that obscured most of his face. Despite the chilly air that Jack had brought with him, he wasn’t wearing any sort of jacket, just a dirty white shirt and vest. Knowing that he wouldn’t be seen, he made his way to the tent. He wanted to meet this child that still believed, here at the end of the world.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a scratchy voice growled behind him. The temperature plummeted around him, which was impressive, considering cold was his forte. Gripping his staff, he turned slowly. The man by the fire was standing, hand glowing blue, but magic now-a-days wasn’t terribly uncommon. No, what made him stare was the man’s ice-blue skin, his long, pointed nose, those white eyes narrowed suspiciously at him from behind cracked round frames.

“Uhh…” Caught off guard, Jack couldn’t come up with a reply. He hadn’t talked to any adults, any real adults, since that day so long ago, before he fell through the ice. “Just, uh, you know… checking out the place…”

He glanced unthinkingly over his shoulder, where he could see the small form of the sleeping child under blankets. The man followed his gaze, and he bared his teeth. They were razor sharp.

“Stay away from her,” he commanded, the blue glow around his hand intensifying. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

“Hurt her?!” That had been the last thing on his mind. “I don’t want to hurt anyone! I just - ” He cut himself off as his brain caught a rather important surprise. “You can see me?”

The man raised one snow-white eyebrow, examining him closely. After a moment, he lowered his hand, and the magical aura vanished. The temperature returned to normal. “You’re a spirit, aren’t you? You don’t look like the rest of them…” He seemed to relax, and sat down again, although he kept a close eye on Jack. “Yes, I can see you. I’ve got Wizard Eyes – they let me see all kinds of crazy stuff.” He gestured to his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” Jack responded, not quite sure what to make of it. “Usually adults can’t see me…”

The man offered him a weary, toothy smile. “Well, it’s strange times we live in.” The expression only lasted a minute before it wavered and faded into a more worried, thoughtful look.

“I’m Jack,” Jack blurted, eager to get out of the awkward silence he felt coming. “Jack Frost. I’m one of the Guardians.”

It was the old man’s turn to look startled. “Jack Frost? As in, the nipping at your nose Jack?” Perhaps subconsciously, he reached up to cover the tip of his own long nose.

“Hey, rumors of me nipping noses are highly exaggerated,” Jack responded coolly, leaning against his crook. “Normally I just pinch.”

“Yes, I – I’m well aware,” the man mumbled, still looking somewhat lost.

“What about you? What’s your name?”

“Uh… Its, its Simon. Simon Petrikov.” He reached up and took off his glasses, carefully polishing them on his shirt. Jack heard the cracked parts of the glass slide against each other. “So, you said you were a guardian? Guardian of what?”

“Oh, it’s a whole organization. We protect the children of the world. Or, at least…” he cast his eyes out over the ruined town, frowning sadly. “We did.”

Simon made an understanding sound. “It must have been hard, when the bombs fell.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “So there are more of you then?”

“There were.” Jack thought about the globe, darkened but for a few specks. He pictured the beds, the safe-hold that the Man in the Moon had created for them at the North Pole. He saw his friends laid out in them, asleep but lying still as death… “We survive on belief, though. Most of my friends are…”

Simon watched him, waiting for him to finish. When Jack trailed off, he sighed and nodded. “You don’t look much older than a kid yourself. Taking on protecting others is pretty admirable.”

“Well, I’ve got some firepower on my side, or what’s left of it anyways.” He waved his hand, and a little frost sparkled in the air for a moment. Simon stared at it, entranced. “A Guardian’s power is based in the children that believe in him, though. With everything that’s happened, my powers are limited at best.” He lowered his hand and took a seat across from Simon at the fire. “But it looks like you’ve got some magic on you too, huh?”

Simon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, you – you could say that…” he mumbled self-consciously. “I try not to use it much…”

“But you’re more than willing to use it to defend your kid, yeah?” Jack settled in and smiled. “I’d say that’s pretty admirable too.”

“She’s not mine,” Simon corrected automatically, then checked himself. “I mean… she was alone in the wreckage. I couldn’t just leave her…”

“Then that’s even more impressive.” Jack looked back at the sleeping form in the tent. “How old is she, anyway?”

Simon shrugged. “She’s… special, but she’s still just a toddler…”

“Special how?”

“Mmmmm…..” a little voice made them both freeze. “Mr. Simon? Who are you talking to…?”

A young, grey-skinned girl with fangs and pointed ears poked her head out of the tent, rubbing her eyes. Draped over her shoulders was a jacket that was far too large for her. Jack assumed it belonged to Simon.

“Uh, just, uh…” Simon tried to stammer something out, gaze darting between her and Jack. The little girl blinked a couple of times in the firelight, squinted, and yawned.

“Don’t talk to the crown, m’kay?” she mumbled, then turned and fell back into her bed, already asleep.

The two guys were quiet for a while, waiting to make sure she was actually asleep. “So…” Jack began, “I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume she’s not human…?”

“Half demon, is what she tells me.” Simon grabbed a stick and poked at the coals, stirring the fire. “Her mother was human – she… passed away when the bombs fell.”

Jack stared thoughtfully at him for a moment. “And you’re not human either?”

“I was,” Simon snapped bitterly. When he didn’t add anything else, Jack decided not to prod.

“What was that she was saying, about a crown?”

Simon didn’t answer for a long time. He seemed completely and purposefully engrossed in the coals. Jack was just about to open his mouth again when the old man sighed. Reaching beside him, he pulled a golden crown with red gems out of his backpack.

“It’s the source of my magic. It gives me control over ice and snow.” He looked up and smiled at Jack, but the pain in his eyes betrayed him. “Kind of like you have, I’d imagine.”

Jack wondered if he should ask his next question - “What did she mean, don’t talk to it?” - but he had never been one to curb his curiosity.

Simon stared at the crown for a moment, before shivering and putting it back into the bag. “There’s a spirit that lives inside it, which is responsible for my magic, and my transformation. It talks to me sometimes. It’s… not a nice spirit.”

“I see.” Jack thought back to his first battle as a guardian. “I’ve had my share of ‘not-nice spirits’ as well.”

Simon didn’t respond.

After a few minutes, Jack stood. “So, I was just checking on your little girl. I’m trying to find children in the world who still believe – she’s one of the only ones left.” He looked back over at the tent. “What’s her name?”

“Marcy… Marceline Abadeer.”

Jack nodded. “I need to check on the other children who are still out there.” He walked around the fire to stand next to Simon, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Keep taking care of her, okay? I’ll keep an eye out for you two.”

Simon reached up and patted his hand. “I’ll tell her about you – her believing will help you and your friends out, yes?” He stood as well, and turned to him. “Listen, though… if you visit again, and I don’t remember you… don’t be surprised, okay?” Jack raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth to ask why, but the serious look Simon was giving him told him not to ask. Slowly, he closed his mouth and nodded. Simon nodded back, and patted him on the shoulder. “Good luck finding the other children.”

“Good luck taking care of Marcy,” Jack responded, turning and calling up the wind. With a sudden gust, he was lifted up in the air, and away.

 

The next evening, Simon had a new bedtime story for Marcy.


End file.
